Under the Harvest Moon
by Freidon
Summary: Introvert Rachel Wood had no intentions of enjoying her life in the country, she's only here to escape her broken past and a workaholic father. The longer she stays, however, the more she realizes that she has found a home.
1. A Fresh beginning and Fresh Milk

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**Chapter One: A Fresh Beginning and Fresh Milk**

**_Day 1:

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I surveyed the land, swallowing hard as the cool New Year's spring breeze combed my hair. The farm didn't look like much; in fact, it didn't look like it was even a farm. The grass was overgrown with weeds; the barn and house appeared to be made of rotting wood. Even the paint on what was once a picket fence had worn away over time.

"It is sad, really. Once your grandfather passed away, the farm seemed to lose its spirit as well." Mr. Hayes wearily sighed behind me. Without bothering to turn, I sighed as well.

"Thank you, Mayor Hayes. May I ask you to repeat what he left me in the Will?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair. A nervous habit of mine. Who wouldn't be nervous, though? This farm was disaster. The grass was still brown from winter, the house looked like it would collapse on itself if given but a light knock on the door, and there was only a single stray dog to take care of. The very farm that had once had fifty cattle stalls now lay barren, rotting into the earth. This would take the all of the money left to me to fix, if not more.

"Fifty acres of land, including all of the buildings standing on it, his journal, and his entire fortune. His bank account contains ten thousand dollars. Your grandfather….he wasn't right in the head near the end. He hid his entire fortune away in his last few weeks. I'm not quite sure of the details, so if I were you, I would ask about it in town when you meet everyone." The mayor remarked, sighing wearily before continuing.

"No one is going to believe this. A sad sob story, that's what this is. Your great-grandfather was the very reason why this town didn't starve during the great depression, you know. Ol' John, your grandfather of course, prevented this land from being paved over by an amusement park. They were legends, your family was. Even your father, bless his soul, was respected for becoming a lawyer. No one would dare imagine this place becoming so run down." Mayor Hayes said, glancing around the ancient farm.

"After your father came along, everyone thought he'd continue the Wood legacy. Come back and defend the town in a legal matter of some sort. Everyone just assumed that the legend would continue. It never really sunk in that the family wasn't coming back. It just faded away, along with the memories. Rumors spread, of course. I meant to tell you to be wary of that. Half of what you'll hear won't be true. There have been ghost stories, tales that the Wood family line once belonged to nobility. Why, I've even heard that you can find Jack's guardian angel's feather laying on his grave every April." The mayor continued, his shoulders square as he babbled on. I rather disliked him. It wasn't that he wasn't a nice man and all; it was just it was hard to like somebody when you couldn't get them to shut up.

"Sir, you were saying something about how the Oak Ranch was willing to donate a cow?" I asked, my voice whispery as I gazed upon what was once my grandfather's land. It wasn't much to look at, but it suited me fine, once the finances were taken care of. I was eager to change the subject, because to tell the truth, I wasn't much interested in the tales of heroic relatives. I wasn't here to prove my worth to some old gossiping villagers, I was here to settle down and make some money.

The mayor blinked, then turned to me, as if waking from a dazed dream.

"Right. Excuse me. Yes, Oak Ranch is a rather wealthy, and the owners thought it'd be nice to give you a little welcome home present. They went ahead and put the cow in the barn, and they said you could name her whatever you'd like, and drop by later if you needed help. I doubt they'll recognize you when they see you; none of us had seen you since you were a wee little girl." He said, laughing. I ignored him, and just nodded, keeping my face blank. I had seen this before. Mayor Hayes was probably up for election soon, meaning he would need all the votes he could get. If he thought I came from a persuasive family, and that my 'noble' background could convince others to see my point of view, winning my vote could mean winning the entire town's vote.

"Thank you, sir. It was very nice meeting you. You mentioned the post office works differently around here?" I asked, looking at him. I didn't know what the Johnston family really intended by giving me a free cow, but it couldn't hurt to send a thank you letter.

"Yes. The postman, Mr. Harris, delivers all the mail. If you intend to send a letter, just talk to him. You could also give it to my daughter, Mary, in the library and she'll take care of it for you." The Mayor smiled, a twinkle in his eye.

"Of course, Mr. Harris is about your age, as well." At that statement, I stopped viewing my new home and looked at him, eyebrow raised. The idiot actually thought that I would flirt with the mailman. My first impression of him was correct.

"I assure you, sir, I have no intention of romance in any manner whatsoever. I just plan on living here, is all." I turned my face back toward the landscape. I had spoken the truth, I didn't have any romantic interests here, but I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't blush at the thought.

"Oh, come now. You'll learn soon enough that a little old town such as this doesn't bother with such proper greetings, Ms. Wood. Please, may I call you Rachel?" I looked back at the man, whom seemed to be quite intent on focusing all of his attention on me for the next century.

The mayor was a rather focused man, continually crossing the borders between a mayor and a southern hillbilly. From what I had seen of him, he had been very professional. Occasionally, though, when he was less tense, he would slip into a thick, burly southern accent. He seemed rather neat, but a bit compulsive about his appearance. He also appeared to be in his late forties; the little gray hair that was left on his head was neatly combed. His business suit, despite the dusty ground, was spotless. Forcing a smile onto my face, I nodded, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears.

"Ms. Wood would be fine. Thank you for all your help, Mayor, but I'm pretty sure that I can find my way around. Although, I'm not sure who the carpenter is around here. I'll need the barn and the field fence fixed as soon as possible." My mind stirred, and my concentration wandered far from the words that automatically spouted out of my mouth.

The expanse before me wove under and over, the hills touching the very ends of the earth. The earth, the dirt, the flesh of the land was both rich and dreadfully poor, chopped into striped sections. The house's view was a wonderful one, as it laid observing nature's changes upon the tallest hill of them all. As Mayor Hayes and I stood to the right side of the rotting log cabin, we could easily see the stripes of earth below us, mixtures of dried dirt, clay, and rich black soil. It wasn't the soil that captivated me, though. It was when I spotted Willow's Creek did I know that it was a good decision to move here.

The official entrance to the farm was not at the house, but at Willow's Creek. I didn't know at the time that the lake was once a creek, nor did I know it had once been core of the town's water sources. But I did know that, as I stood staring at the rippling beauty, that this creek was God's gift. If you haven't traveled to the country, you'll never fully comprehend what I'm attempting to tell you. But the fact is, as I stood there memorized by the ripples sweeping across the lake, I finally felt what I had been missing all my life. A home.

"It really is sad, Ms. Wood, that this land has been rotting all these years. Be honest, your father never intends to come back, does he?" Looking directly him in the eye, I gave him an honest answer.

"My father is a lawyer," I smirked, ignoring painful memories as they flashed into my head, "Lawyers tend to create empty promises." The mayor chuckled nervously, his fingers fidgeting. I could see it clearly; he didn't believe a twenty-year-old girl could actually run a farm. My smirk fading, I nodded my head.

"Thank you. You said there was a grocery store nearby?" I looked back over at the land, studying every square inch of it. It would take time to get the farm up and running again, most likely time I didn't have. I had twenty thousand dollars to use because the foolish old man decided to play treasure ranch. Twenty thousand dollars could be enough, if I played my cards right. Too bad I was never good at poker.

"Yes, the bakery sells grocery goods as well as bread. If you want to know any details, speak to the the owner, Jeff, or Ellie. Here, I'll give you the list of when which stores are open. It's rather handy, see, cause it includes their addresses as well." He smiled, and giving him my thanks I took the shop schedules. Studying it closely, I noticed that there were very few stores. A library/bookstore, bakery and goods, tools and technology, a bar, a school and church, and a few other meager shops.

"Sir, do you know of any part-time jobs that are available?" I asked, not bothering to look up from the card. Everything was so precise, and every shop and its address were perfectly in sync. The mayor was neat. Most high-class men were. If they weren't organized, they didn't get the job. If they didn't have the charisma, they couldn't impress the people. Charisma was the one thing I was lacking, and the one thing I resented. Maybe that's why I resented the mayor. Either that, or the fact that he wouldn't shut up was getting under my skin. I'm pretty sure it was the latter.

"You'll have to ask around, live a little. After all, Willow Village is all about meeting people." Yep, definitely the latter.

"Thank you. You mentioned the Johnson family?" I asked, dancing around his suggestion. The suck-up was poorly attempting to get me to make friends. Go figure. He was in for a dead end if he wanted to suck popularity out of me.

"Oh yes, Jeff and Elli,but they're not related. Jeff was Elli's family's friend before her mother and father passed away. Anyways, they still sell some mighty fine cakes, and they also serve some pretty spiffy coffee." He chuckled, a silent plea shimmering in his eyes. I ignore him, simply because I already hate the man. Why? He's annoying, and he used the word spiffy, need I say more?

"I'm afraid I don't drink coffee, sir, but what about the Oak Ranch?" I inquired, inserting the proper, 'don't dare mess with me again' tone. That small touch was all that was needed. Fidgeting with his hands rapidly, he nodded rather hastily.

"Of course, they always willing to have a part-time worker. If you speak with them tomorrow, I'm sure something can be arranged." For once, the man seemed completely honest with what he was saying. Of course, he was still encouraging me to talk with the other villagers.

"Thank you, and, if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone my current financial status. Rumors spread faster than a jack rabbit in small towns such as this." I remarked, encouraging him to leave. Instead, he winced at the word 'small', and stood there, not leaving…against my wishes. This guy had a remarkable talent of making friends. Once again, deserving to be berated into oblivion, he spoke.

"May I ask, is it true you declined a full scholarship to law school?" This guy didn't know when to zip his lip.

"Well, I don't reckon that something so personal like that would matter to you, Mayor. Thank you for the introduction, but I have a good bit of work to do with this farm. Excuse me." My eyes darted from across the land as I walked away from Mr. Hayes. I came here to abscond from the noise, not to walk to it with open arms. This idiot didn't seem to comprehend that concept.

With that, I walked away from the baffled mayor. It was a simple act, but one I wouldn't forget. Years and years later, I would find myself doing the exact same thing at the exact same place at a completely different time. Of course, that's beside the point. As I walked away, I heard the man call out,

"Well, be sure to come to the Spring Festival tomorrow! You can meet everyone there. It would be simply a delightful way to introduce you to this town's members and background." I simply nodded and kept walking; I ignored the fact he wouldn't be able to see me nod. As much as I tried to hate this crappy town, it wouldn't hurt to know who my neighbors were.

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After exploring and cleaning the shack I called a home for the next few hours, I stood in the rotting barn, grimacing at the poor shape the antique building was in. I didn't have to be an experienced farmer to know a health hazard when I saw one. Then, the most frightening event in my entire lifetime occurred. I met Bessie. 

"What the…" Before I could finish the sentence, my nose decided it would make friends with the ground. The wind knocked out of me, I turned my head, desperate to find what bumped into me. It was the most evil creature I could ever see. What, don't agree with me? The thing had horns, and those horns had just rammed into my gluteus maximus.

Fumbling as I got back to my feet, I realized the colossal spotted monstrosity had bumped into me not for evil intentions, but for attention. Scowling, I placed my hands on my hips.

"Next time you're hungry, don't knock your feeder unconscious. Geez, your brain must be the size of a peanut. Take that back, your brain is smaller than a Stegosaurus's, and consists of mush…" I stopped, realizing I was babbling insults to a female bovine who didn't care what I thought of her as long as she got fed. Staring at the hungry cow, I sighed before finding and filling her trough with hay. Immediately, Bessie waddled as fast as her fat legs would carry her to her food bin, drooling as she gobbled her gourmet. I groaned, realizing that I would need to milk her.

Not that I'm complaining, after all, Bessie was going to be my main source of money for the next few days. Still, when you absorb the fact that I was a city-girl who had never touched an udder in her life, it makes perfect sense that I would be reluctant to squeeze a cow's udders. It also makes perfect sense that I really, really wanted latex gloves at the moment. I rolled my eyes, mumbling under my breath about how these country hicks probably had never touched a latex glove in their life. Either way, a woman who was willing backtalk a mayor shouldn't be afraid of a stupid cow.

Grabbing a metal bucket, I took my place underneath the devil's bovine. Bessie ignored my existence, (which was quite alright with me) and I hesitantly reached for the cow's udder Taking a hesistant breath before I began, I closed my eyes and began to squeeze.

Now, no one told me when I signed up for this trip that I would have to invent a strategic tactic for milking cows. After all, in the movies, all they do is reach and squeeze. Well I reached, I squeezed, and almost next to nothing came out. It was moments like this when I felt like a blond dim-witted city-girl.

After several minutes of restraining my primitive instincts to pull out a club and beat the milk out of the dumb beast, I finally managed to get a bunch of milk from one squeeze. I smiled. I was a sophisticated woman, I, human, had mastered the ability of removing milk from a cow. I tried again, and to my disbelief, nothing came out. I closed my eyes, groaning aloud. This was going to take some getting used to.

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Author's Note: This chapter has been UPDATED. Originally, the whole theme was a mixture of all the Harvest Moon games and my own personal fantasies, but I changed the theme to HM64, which caused some of the townspeople to change. I have, however, kept a few of my own add ins. For instance, the mayor is still Theodore "Hayes" named after a friend simply because my friend hates the fact that I did so. Also, Flower Bud Village has been renamed Willow Village for story plot reasons, and Ann's home Oak Ranch simply because I never figured out its official name. 


	2. All About Meeting People

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**Chapter Two: All About Meeting People**

**Day 2: Spring 23rd

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Everything was pink. Absolutely pink. Pink flowers, pink clothing, pink food, pink seeds and worst of all, I kid you not, pink _hair_ and _eyes_. When I first met Popuri, I was a bit shocked. It didn't seem odd at all to the other local villagers that this girl's hair was pink, nor did they seem shocked that her mother had the same color hair. And eyes. And crazy obsession with flowers. In fact, the only difference I saw between the two was the fact that the elder woman kept to herself, while I couldn't shut Popuri up.

Ok, I'm being a bit cruel. But honestly, who has red eyes? Sure, you could say she dyed her hair and put in contacts, but her mother didn't seem the type to do such a thing. That horrific hair….that perfectly combed hair….was naturally pink. Don't ask me how, because honestly, I decided I would let go of the hair problem when I found out how long she could talk. Popuri, which was her name, would talk ages about anything and everything. When I mean everything, I mean she gave me a full monologue upon her life story. Ok, she didn't go that far, but at the rate she was babbling, it certainly seemed like a possibility.

"Every year the men vote on who should be the flower queen. You'll automatically be nominated next year, all young women in the town are. You get to wear this pretty pink dress…." No. Anything but the P word. Now, I'm not gothic or anything, but there was such a thing as too much pink. And this was certainly it.

"And you get to dance with the king. He's nominated at the end of the year. I hope I get it. Do you think I'll get it? Oh well, I suppose it doesn't matter. Though it would be like a dream to walk in that beautiful dress in front of everyone, don't you think so?" No. I think it would be my worst nightmare to walk in an ugly pink skirt down an ugly flower covered floor in front of all these people.

"_She's pretty." A little girl stares in awe at the youthful looking woman in front of her. An elderly man besides her chuckles._

"_She sure can dance, too. See the happiness in her eyes? She just got hitched to the vineyard owner and had a child about a year ago. Her name is… " The little girl doesn't pay her grandfather any attention, but keep staring at the pretty lady. As the woman walks by, she smiles at the little girl, and takes the ring of flowers off her own head and places it upon the little girl's. The little girl scrunches up her nose._

"_You should be Queen of Dance, not Princess of Flowers." The woman laughs, and her eyes light up. The little girl watches the pretty lady walk away, and after a few moments the girl fingers the flowers on her head. With all her heart, she wished that one day she would dance in a river of flowers…and then…and then?…_

"Rachel?" My head jolted out of the hazy memory, and I was surprised to find that hideous pink hair threatening to blind me. Embarrassed, I mumbled something under my breath before nodding.

"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't be too bad." I remarked, my eyes on my shoes, avoiding the flashing pink. What? I wasn't that embarrassed; I was just protecting my eyes. I wouldn't mind keeping my eyesight when I become old. Besides, if you said I had low self-confidence, every homo sapient who knew me would protest.

"Too bad? You're worse than Ann." I raised an eyebrow, and looked back up at my surroundings. There were many people around me, mainly girls in frilly uniforms. But there were others as well, many of which I didn't recognize. As I looked behind Popuri, I noticed a girl with flaming orange hair placing her hands on her hips.

"Who's worse than me about what?" The girl, I presumed, was Ann.

Ann wasn't that bad, especially if you compare her to the pink flamingo who was currently whirling around to face her. Still, I made a mental note to myself that she was just another face to memorize and later discard. Even so, I was intrigued by the fact that she didn't seem too happy to be wearing the feminine outfit.

"Hi Ann! Meet Rachel, she's taking over the farm." Taking over. Sounded like I was a dictator conquering thousands of miles of fertile land, or perhaps a queen coming to rid her land of boredom and silly pink haired nitwits. Somehow, I couldn't picture my shack becoming the next Rome, and I seriously doubted that Bessie would suffice for the royal cavalry.

"Popuri, we better go backstage, the winner is about to be announced. Nice to meet you, Rachel. By the way, if you want a horse, feel free to drop by Oak Ranch. See you later!" And with that, I had accomplished the very feat I had been attempting for the last ten minutes. Ann was a genius. Yet…I felt utterly alone.

Gazing across the room, I noticed something much worse than Popuri. Mayor Hayes. Two women stood beside him, one whom I assume was his wife, and the second whom looked just like her mother. Like Ann and Popuri, the girl looked like my age. Unlike her father, she seemed completely withdrawn, and looked about ready to die when Ann, Popuri, and two other girls told her it was time to get ready backstage. I shook my head, confused.

You can't blame me for being confused. I mean, first of all, I'm in a town that has pink haired residents, bold mayors, and festivals that don't make any sense whatsoever. From the way I understood it, this 'Spring Festival' was an important event among the villagers, and so was the title 'King' and 'Queen'. True, it brought morale to the villagers, but what other purpose did it bring? While Bessie sat drooling in a shack that I could have been fixing, I had to spend the day observing strangers whom act as if they've known me their entire lives. A voice interrupted my quaint little lecture.

"Just in case you're a bit confused," A masculine voice behind me resounded, "Popuri has a good heart, but better clothes. Ann has bad cooking, but good animal skills. Ellie can make better bread than Betty Crocker herself, and Maria, the mayor's daughter, finds bugs and books more fascinating than dresses. Karen….well, Karen's the one with the bad attitude drinking wine.."

My body instantly responded with a 360 degree turn, and I soon faced yet another new face. The young man pushed his brown hair out of his eyes, smiling as he did so. That didn't scare me. What did scare me was the rather large hawk perched on his shoulder.

"I'm Cliff. I'm just the average hunter around these parts. It's rare to see a new face around here; would you mind updating me?" He was the sloppiest man alive. His hair was uncombed, his clothes most likely unwashed. But it came to pass in my poor pitifully freakish head that none of that mattered. What mattered was that his little birdie's eyes were unblinkingly staring at mine.

"My name is Rachel, and I'm taking over my grandfather's farm. So…since my entire purpose of being at this celebration is to learn who everyone is, would you mind showing me around?" Who was saying this? It wasn't me; it couldn't be me. It wasn't I, either, for I was screaming silently at the words that popped out of my mouth. Naturally, I came to the conclusion that 'myself' was the culprit. One problem. 'Me' 'myself' and 'I' were the same person.

"No problem, I just came here cause I'm bored. So…what do ya wanna know?" I winced at his incorrect pronunciation, but 'myself' had dug into too deep of a hole to get out now.

"Alright, for one thing, who's the girl helping Ann drag Mayor Ha….I mean, Maria backstage? She looks like someone I've met before." I murmured, my eyes flickering back to Cliff.

"Remember the one with the bad attitude and alcoholism I was talking about? That's my dearest cousin, Karen." I couldn't comprehend why she appeared so familiar to me, but I decided to leave it and go on memorizing yet more useless faces.

"Alright, what about the guy with the blue cap over there?" I asked, pointing towards a young man leaning against the wall. He seemed about Cliff and my age, which was rather odd. His arms crossed and his cap pulled down, he did _not_ look like the type to be singing the Barney theme song.

"That's Gray, he's Ann's older brother. He doesn't talk much, and seriously needs an attitude adjustment." Funny. I seemed to recall Mayor Hayes talking about how Willow Village was all about 'meeting people'. So far I had met a tomboy, the phantom of the opera's nightmare in pink, an alcoholic girl whom seemed familiar to me, an introverted nerd, a guy with a rather large Tweety bird on his shoulder, and an antisocial freak. Of course, this town is all about companionship and fellowship.

"Thank you, and good day, sir." I began to walk off, but his persistent voice stopped me. Was everyone in this town annoying? Don't they know a future hermit when they see one?

"You look pretty young to be out here by your lonesome, younger than me anyways. Tell me, your folks know about you being out here?" I hesitated for a moment, and then took a deep breath.

"I'm just as much of an adult as you are, and if you wish to pursue the matter further, I'll remind you of the fact that I highly doubt your own guardians know where you are." I lowered my voice, keeping it steady and highly professional. Or at least, what I hoped was highly professional.

"Those are some big words, miss, I'm afraid that I'm just a lowly old hunter. Just trying to make small talk, is all." He grinned, faking a heavy country accent. I couldn't help but slightly smile back. What? Just because he's an idiot doesn't mean he isn't humorous. Of course, I mean his idiocy was humorous, not his personality.

After about ten minutes of waiting, with Cliff bugging me throughout the entire time to meet more of the locals, the Flower Princess/Queen was chosen. And who could be, and how could care? It was little miss Mary Sue, and it turned out that the fact that her vocal chords would soon refuse to stop for about ten minutes would be of great disturbance to me later on.

Watching Popuri's smile widen as flowers were thrown all around her, I felt a small sense of childish longing. All the villagers around her had a place in their town, something I hadn't had in a long time. Something I didn't plan to have for an even longer time. Pouting, I tried to rid this out of my head. I must be pretty desperate to want to make friends with these loco villagers. I would not be desperate.

Shaking my head, I decided that it was in my best interest to leave. After watching Popuri walk towards the mayor, I began my stealthy escape from the village square. However, I was stopped, frozen, by a sudden recognition and realization of why I recognized the drunken girl.

"_She just got hitched to the vineyard owner and had a child about a year ago." _I stared across the square to meet the girl's eyes. They glared back at me, clearly unhappy. But even so, she looked like the Queen of Dance. She looked like her mother.

I stood there dumbly for a few moments before leaving. I didn't intend to do it, but it turned out to be beneficial, since I avoided Popuri's ramblings. But I did do it. My feet just left the stone floor, and softly began to tread their way to the farm. Once again, for the millionth time, an annoying character abruptly stopped me in my dramatic journey home.

"Dear me, you've grown! Rachel, right? I'd know your old man's granddaughter anywhere." Without warning, an elderly looking woman stood in front of my path, hands on her hips. Her grayed hair was hung in braids, as was the little girl's who stood quietly beside her.

"Yes, um…have we met?" I asked, annoyed and confused. A rather bad combination, if you ask me. The woman leaned forward, her eyes squinting as she peered at me.

"Oh, it was a while back. You were just a wee little girl; you wouldn't remember me. I'm the midwife of this town, an old friend of your grandfather's." As she laughed, I refrained from rolling my eyes. Only yesterday, the Mayor had commented about what a 'wee little girl' I was. What was this place, Country or Irish?

"Well, it was nice to meet you again. Have a good festival." I replied, posting a false smile upon my face. Before I could head to my farm, however, the midwife spoke up.

"Listen, I'm growing senile, but even I know that you didn't know your old grandfather well. I just thought you'd like to know where he was buried. Do you?" I stopped, dumbstruck. One moment, I'm choosing Bessie over a pink death, the next an old lady who says she knows me is talking about my grandfather's grave. I was infuriated that a woman could be so bold about a part of my life she knew something about. I was enraged that she would think me too ignorant to know where my own grandfather lays buried! I quickly gave her my answer.

"No thank you, I was at the funeral when he was buried."

"Really?" The elderly lady inquired of me, looking intrigued at such a small statement. "I didn't see your family there." She asked, her voice cracking from either sadness or seniority.

"I was the only one from my family who came to the funeral. Now please, excuse me. Nice meeting you." I turned around before the Midwife or the little girl beside her could see my eyes water, and walked away. This time, I began the journey to my own personal Rome, sucessfully comfirming a temporary neutrality between my ranch and pink haired nitwits. My journey was undisturbed, uninterrupted, but also...unhappy.

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**Author's Note: This chapter wasn't as good as I would have hoped, but I'm glad I had the guts to complete the chapter. I didn't exactly have a direct theme or point in this chapter, so I admit that this chapter was a bit cruddy. Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it. Also, Popuri fans, don't feel offended. I'm having Rachel describe the characters as she sees them, and as you have probably figured out by now, she finds something wrong with everyone. Also, if ANYONE knows the Midwife's real name, please contact me. It has been so long since I've played the Nintendo 64 version of this game, so I am often missing information. Thanks for reading!**


	3. A Lucky Cricket

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Chapter Three: The Lucky Cricket

**Day 9: Summer 1rst

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I declined a law school to dig dirt. All day. Then you get to water the dirt. Then you get to weed the dirt. And milk crazy cows. And woo stray dogs into letting you pet them, only to find that the dog seems to ignore every stranger in sight. (Despite the fact that he seemed to hate your guts when he first met you.)

Meet Koro. The lovely mutt who stood there, drooling, while I busted my butt planting corn in the summer sun. He never failed to bark at a rock, yet failed to notice whenever a salesman came to visit. That's right, a salesman. Here, in the middle of nowhere.

But that's beside the point. The point is that as cute as every girl within ten miles of Willow Farm thought Koro to be, he was useless. Now, him being cute and useless was just fine with me, but the fact that Koro was useless and eating me out of house and home was not.

Wiping my sweaty head, I finished the two rows of corn. As I had found to be normal in this village, my rare second of peace was interrupted. This time it wasn't by a babbling power puff, but by the sound of moaning. I turned around, to find a familiar mutt standing, looking completely bored, under his doghouse. That didn't surprise me. What surprised me was that he was standing only a few meters away from a man moaning on the ground. It was in moments like that I felt like strangling whoever came up with the bizarre theory that dogs were not only a man's best friend, but intelligent as well. Bessie may have had mush for a brain, but at least she had one.

Dropping my watering can, moments later I found myself kneeled next to the brunette's figure. It was Jeff. No, that wasn't his name. Smith? Biff?

"Cliff?! I…I don't really appreciate you taking a nap on my farm. What in this world is the matter with you? Don't you dare tell me you can't breathe, because I'd rather be six feet under than give you CPR!" I yelled loudly, making sure that the idiot could hear me. I wasn't worried, I mean, as a city girl, I saw stuff like this all the time. It didn't affect me a single bit. I was calm. I was rational. And worst of all, I was seriously irritated.

"Unn….food…" Cliff moaned, his eyelids flickering. I rolled my eyes. He was trying to rip me off for food! Man, he had as much of a brain as Koro did. Searching through my backpack, I gathered a handful of walnuts I had gathered previously. Within moments, he suddenly found a sudden bubble of strength and leaped up, gobbling down the food ravenously.

"Geez, eat a bit slower before you puke it all up. Now, would you mind telling me how exactly how you found yourself barely conscious at my front door?" As I spoke, Cliff winced, rubbing the back of his head. Wouldn't blame him, because I was every guy's nightmare. A tired, scolding, female with a bad attitude. Oh yes, _this_ is what I call fellowship and companionship.

"Um…I got kind of hungry." He chuckled nervously, shrinking a foot each second I glared at him. I rolled my eyes, and replied, ever so calmly, patiently, and sweetly,

"Of course, a hunter just accidentally starved himself, then found himself at his new neighbor's door. I don't like dishonest people, Smith, and right now you're lying to me in my face. Now, explain to me why I gave up my lunch so you could lie to my face!" Cliff chuckled nervously, still scratching the back of his neck. He must have been rubbing it raw, for he had been scratching throughout my entire rant.

"First of all, my name's Cliff, not Smith. Second of all, I was just a bit hungry. You're a farmer, so I figured you might have some extra food you were willing to spare." He laughed, attempting to make a good-natured joke about it all. It was not a good-natured subject.

"Get this straight through your head, Biff, I'm not a walking charity. I'm not going to give out free food to hobos like you whenever you 'play dead'. Got that?!" Within that moment, Cliff managed to regain his 'manly pride'. Not that he had any earlier. Oh, just shut up. He now, in my ranking system, had negative masculinity.

"Hobo? Now listen sister, nobody calls me a hobo. I'm an independent hunter, it's just right now the fish aren't biting." Cliff certainly wasn't giving up. Neither was I. I would absolutely not back down to this ignorant self-centered pig!

Now that I look back on it, the entire fight was silly. I was scolding and insulting him over a handful of walnuts, for goodness sakes. But at the time, he was an ignorant baboon who was trying to live off of me. My philosophy was that the day hermits and hobos could live with each other would be the day dogs didn't chase after mailmen. I didn't realize until much later that Koro never once even glanced at Harris.

"Well pardon me for being concerned about my food management!" I was not pouting. I was too intelligent for that. I was absolutely not pouting. Cliff cocked his head to the side, and gave me a puzzled look.

"I don't get it, I just asked for a little food. You didn't have to get all upset. If you were so against me asking for food, why did you give me some anyways?" His ridiculously long hair was waving with the wind, and it annoyed me to now end how disorganized the man was. Mayor Hayes's opposite, if you ignore their extroverted similarities.

"Because…because…oh, just shut up and get out of my farm." See? I already learned this village's ability to represent friendliness and companionship. Not pouting one bit, I stomped away into the barn, reminding myself of the annoying fact that once I was done milking Bessie, I had to visit that 'Oak Ranch', and meet more people in order to obtain a free horse.

As soon as I entered the barn, the familiar odor of rotten wood wavered hesitantly under my nose. Despite the fact that I had ordered wood to repair the barn, I still hadn't had the time to repair it. Nor had I learned how to do so. I stopped midway, realizing how to hit two birds with one stone.

"Cliff!" Moments later, I found myself chasing after the puzzled hunter. He stopped, already halfway off of my farm. Curious, he smirked.

"What, am I so dashing that you've come rushing for my forgiveness?" He smirked, and I shivered. The man had no sense of honor. Ignore the fact that I had only moments ago screamed at him for eating a handful of my walnuts; I began my noble quest to give the 'independent hunter' (A.K.A. unemployed) a job.

"No, moron, I've come to ask you if you know how to repair barns." Crickets sounded. Literally.

The crickets are somewhat interesting to speak about. After all, their chirping is considered sweet and adorable to listen to. For example, how many stories have you heard in which the handsome charmer leads the heroine to sleep under the stars while listening to the 'love songs of crickets'? What's _really_ happening is that the male insect is attempting to sweet talk his lady friend to do somethin somethin later that night. Disturbing, isn't it? So, while I was going out of my way to graciously give Bessie the meager comfort of a non-leaking roof, the cricket decided that his manly needs were more important than my kindness. The six legged pervert.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Sudden change of heart?" Cliff grinned, remaining still slightly puzzled. While I silently held a 'happy happy' dance within the boundary of my mind, I placed my hands on my hips.

"Nope, sudden change of mind. I would prefer my cow to live in a barn that doesn't leak a Mississippi. So, I give you food and shelter, you give me a fixed barn within two weeks. Deal?" The dirty little cricket chirped again, reminding me of the irony of the entire situation. Like I stated previously, a chirp is a courtship call. But in Asia, however, crickets are considered lucky. Getting a repairman in the middle of nowhere for almost free is just a bit lucky. Not much, but just enough to give the filthy insect rights to mock me.

"Nice. Um, when do I get started?" Cliff asked, still grinning like a hyena. Scowling, I looked at my watch.

"Tomorrow, but I'll let you stay at my place today. I can't provide you with a bed, but I hear hay is a lot more comfy than the ground." My ever so devious plan worked. His arrogant smile was gone, replaced with another baffled look.

"Hay?" He stood up, brushing off any excess dirt from his previous starving state. I sighed, and then nodded. What else could I do? I'm not going to let a hobo live with me. That, children, would be disgusting, and since he was a male (even though he seemed to be a different species) unethical.

"Yes, you'll be sleeping in the barn, unless you have a better idea. My Grandpa's old renovations are wrecked, so I only have one room to eat, sleep, and breathe in. You get to share your oxygen with good ol' Bessie." I chuckled, but abruptly stopped as he began smiling again.

"You said I have two weeks food and home for about three days worth of work? Sounds like a deal to me." His eyes darted around, observing the farm, and for a brief moment, it was as if I had known him.

"_You don't have to leave yet, do you?" A little girl sniffed, her hands clutching a stuffed rabbit doll. A little boy stood beside her, his eyes staring down at the floor as he nodded. The little girl was almost seven now, four years since she had met the Queen of Dance._

"_Told ya already, my parents don't love eachother no more. Dad said we'll be headin north soon, so he can work good at his job." The little boy still would look the little crying girl in the eye._

"_I…um…probably won't be back next summer. Dad said we ain't never coming back." The boy keeps his head down, while the little girl wipes her nose on her sleeve. Sniffling, she holds out her stuffed animal._

"_Mr. Carrot said he'd watch over you. But…give him back, all right? Soon, too, cause Mama says he likes to watch me eat veggies." The boy looks up, tears in his eyes, and takes the stuffed bunny. He nods, and runs in the opposite direction. The little girl closes her eyes…and then…and then?_

No way. Nuh uh, nope, never happened. Not happening. NOT happening. Different guy, different memory, different Mr. Carrot.

Composing myself, I realized that Cliff was staring at me with that annoyingly confused face again. Raising my eyebrow, I gave him the best 'what you lookin' at' look.

"Yeah, whatever." I muttered, thoroughly annoyed. Stupid dramatic flashbacks won't even leave me alone. Everyone tampers with the hermit wannabe. Proof of this lies in the fact that Cliff was currently holding out his hand to seal the deal. Instead of shaking his hand, I walked past him.

"Go catch a fishy, and when you're done, remind me to hurry up making mud pies so I can go meet a new friend."

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"What are you gonna name him?" Ann's voice ringed in my ears as I looked up at the scrawny horse. True, he was free, but according to Ann, he was only two years old. That meant that I wouldn't be riding him for quite some time. That also meant that he would be eating hay without benefiting me for quite some time as well. 

"Conn." I just blurted it out, like it was no big deal. Like Conn was just any old name. It wasn't.

"Conn. That's a great name." Ann smiled cheerily. I had found that she was just as optimistic as Popuri, if not more, but was luckily quieter. And less feminine. She wasn't obsessed with pink dresses or hairdos; she just seemed completely absorbed with animals. Her orange hair wasn't shown off, just stuck into a simple braid, and she wasn't wearing a skirt, but was wearing trousers. She didn't have fashion sense, but at least she wasn't absorbed in it.

"Never heard of it." A different voice sounded, and I turned to see her brother, whom Cliff had introduced as Gray. Unlike his sister, he didn't look a bit optimistic or friendly. In fact, with his hat pulled down so low, he looked completely the opposite.

"Never heard of what?" I demanded, instantly putting on the defense. This guy didn't look like someone I wanted to make friends with.

"Conn. It isn't a horse's name. This here is my horse's brother, he don't deserve such a bad name." He crossed his arms, and I instantly walked towards him. Unfortunately, what a surprised, Ann interrupted me by standing assaulting her own brother verbally. Not that I disapproved.

"Of course it's a good name, you idiot! Now apologize." As Ann spoke, I shook my head. Grabbing Conn's lead rope, I simply walked away, saying,

"Whatever." Now, if I had been at this ranch a bit longer, I would have found the irony of the situation. You see, the antisocial jerk was most commonly known for his constant use of the word, 'whatever'. So, theoretically, you could say that I just got done blowing Gray off with his own catchphrase. I love making friends.

As I walked away, I heard Ann yelling at Gray. Goody. The only person I could relate to in this dinky town was the bipolar future PETA manager. All I can say is that as I walked down that dusty road, my Royal Seabiscuit in hand, I was pleased that I didn't hear a single cricket chirp.

Somehow the perverted cricket knew that I didn't feel lucky at all.

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**Author's Note: I don't really like this chapter, because I'm impatient to get the plotline running actively and smoothly. There's so much that I need to explain for my friends who haven't played the Harvest Moon games, so I'm struggling to decide whether or not I want to keep introducing characters and how Rachel sees them, or whether I should just start adding Rachel's part in the story. On a side note, I would like to add that I'm in a hurry to prove that Rachel isn't just some Mary Sue, but I can't do much about that until I get her relationship with other characters going. Please PM or review me if you have any suggestions. Also, "The Lucky Cricket" was a reference to one of my Mulan fanfictions, which I promise I plan on updating when I get the time. Thank you, you're a lot braver than I for reading ALL of this.**


	4. The Hawk and the Hare

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**Chapter Four: A Hunter's Hawk and a Tomboy's Hare**

**Day 12: Summer 3rd-4th

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Now, if there was anything I learned during my first few months of farming, it was that sleep is a treasure worth more than gold. Honestly, how would you like to wake at four in the morning, and then fall asleep about ten? That's an average of six hours of sleep at night, and that's only if you finish on time. Sleep brought energy, and energy was the one thing that decided when your muscles would give out. Now picture this, a flimsy scrawny city girl having to fling a hoe and plow around all day. Not fun. Definitely not fun if you fell asleep while keeping your best source of income happy.

You can only imagine how annoyed I was to be woken up even earlier than usual by a certain someone whom normally doesn't wake up until noon. Cliff. The guy was not only eating me out of house and home, but had clearly had no brains to speak of. After all, he had woken up a woman at three in the morning. Seemed like Cliff and Koro were growing more similar every day, huh?

So, while the sandman was working his magic on me, a certain hunter decided he would waltz right in and give me an early wake-up call.

"Yo…you don't look so good in the morning, do you?" His annoying voice rang in my ears, and I made sure to stuff my pillow over those ringing ears. I was displeased to find that that pillows were definitely not made for sound dampening.

"Five more minutes…" I said softly, too far off in la-la land to comprehend what was going on. Cliff chuckled.

"Come on sleepyhead, I caught some breakfast. Figured some fishy protein would be welcomed compared to those dull eggs you eat every morning." I breathed in sharply, surprised at the pungent odor of fish. Raw fish. Geez, this was one wonderful way to wake up.

Rubbing my eyes, I nodded wearily, murmuring my thanks as I sat up. I looked around, and it took a second for me to realize that Cliff was actually here. In my room. That stupid little turd broke into my house!

"Key?" I sputtered out, blinking severely as I restrained from choking the huntsman. He cocked his head to the side, confused by my completely rational question.

"Key? Oh! Right, forgot about that. I found it underneath your doormat. I hope you don't mind." As he spoke, I looked down to realize I was in my pajamas. Crap. I looked up to see he was shoving a raw fish under my nose. Crap crap.

"You look a bit flushed, here, have a fish." Have a fish? He thought I looked sick and he offers me raw seafood? What kind of idiot was he?! Apparently the kind who I hired for repair-work.

"Uh…thanks. I guess." Maybe I was sick. My face felt pretty hot, after all. My face grew hotter as the independent hunter smirked.

"You know, it's rather interesting to see you without being primped up. You know, a primpy farmer is a rare person to come by. You might be able to beat Popuri in the Spring Festival next year." He chuckled, and my cheeks burned hotter. I had to be sick, because there was no way I would be blushing in front of this idiot.

"I'm not primped up! Spring Festival is just an excuse to hold a beauty pageant, I'd never even enter it!" I crossed my arms, ignoring Cliff's idiotic smirk.

"Wow. Your hair might be as neat as Popuri's, but you definitely act like Karen." He laughed. I didn't.

To put it bluntly, Karen and I were not friends. Never would be, never will be. There were a couple of times where I found Karen drunk and cursing, and I told her rather bravely that she was acting just like her father.

Wrong thing to do.

We didn't have a 'catfight' per say, but we were pretty close to one. It didn't help that Ann, whom I found out later was Karen's best friend, was trying to get us to like one another. Ann tried all the, 'be kind and tell each other how you feel' crud. So I did. I told Karen that she was a pompous drunkie whom I had no interest to befriend. Spitting in my face, she had told me I was a snobbish city-girl who had one heck of an attitude. Can't really argue with that.

I didn't get mad until she started insulting my family. Now, I didn't mind her calling me a spoiled lawyer's daughter, or a disappointment to my dead grandfather, because that's exactly what I am. She was upset, and drunk. It was understandable. But the moment she brought up my mother, I threw my drink on the table and stormed out of the room. I was always good in keeping self-control.

Back with the fish in my face, I spoke aloud. "Karen is a drunk brat, whose hardest task in life is to pick grapes. I'm nothing like her." I seethed, glaring at Cliff. He took the hint, and began sputtering excuses why he had to leave. Good. At the rate my cheeks were burning, wouldn't be surprised if I ended up puking on him.

As he walked out the door, I shook my head wearily, my nose still complaining from the lovely scent of fish and hunter. The fish I could understand, considering he left one on my table for me to eat. The hunter's scent however, made my face burn hotter. He stunk. The guy seriously needed to take a bath.

THWACK!

As Cliff opened the door to leave, he walked into Ann.

Let me try to explain this to you. I was ticked. No doubt about it. After all, I woke up in my pajamas to find stinking fish shoved in my face at three in the morning. Then the talkative hobo compared me to an alcoholic. Then the talkative carrot-top waltzed right into the party, apparently so they could both bug me with their over talkative ways. Oh yeah, did I mention it was three in the morning?!

"Sorry, but you should really watch where you're going." Cliff was a brave man. Foolishly brave, of course. He had ticked off two women within five minutes of each other. At least he had enough sense to walk out of the house before Ann had time to pummel him.

"What did you say?!" She yelled, her face beginning to match her orange head. What was it with these people's hairdos? Honestly, first you have Popuri and her blindingly pink hair, then you have Mayor Hayes's clown-like hair, and then you have a bright orange carrot-top like Ann waltz in.

Honestly, can't a hermit live in peace for one minute? Don't answer that.

While Ann angrily followed Cliff out the door, I was relieved to find myself alone. Ignoring the remaining question of why Ann was at my home this early anyway, I collapsed upon my cot. My last thought before I fell asleep was that I would never, ever, eat Sushi again.

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**Later that Afternoon...**

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By now, you should know my daily schedule. Its pretty simple; eat breakfast, feed and milk Bessie, water the crops, forage for dinner, inhale, exhale, insult Cliff. You get the idea. My schedule works wonderfully, if I do say so myself. It even gives me an hour or so to sit and watch Koro drool. But, as occurring almost daily around here, my plans were interrupted. Who could it be, you may ask? Popuri? The hobo? The undead bovine? Nope. Not even close. While searching for food in the mountains, I stumbled upon a dwarf.

"Ello-hay." Oh yeah, did I mention he only speaks pig Latin? I'm dead serious. It's like watching Oompa Loompas without the green eyebrows or Jimmy Neutron hairdos. Illy-way Onka-way anyone?

I was talking to a, I quote; "Harvest Sprite," and no one could see the mini man but me. The evidence that I was seeing little elves in itsy bitsy red suits led to one conclusion.

I was going insane.

"Uh….hello?" You don't think I'm crazy? Let me put it this way: I'm talking to Oompa Loompa wannabes that aren't there. They're talking back. In pig latin. Enough said.

"Good Orning-may" Correction, part pig latin. Being inside that cave for so long must have caused brain damage, as well, because not only was he speaking in a fictional language, but also it was late afternoon, not morning. Still, being brain damaged because you were a cave resident was far fetched, even for me. Even worse, I kept having freaky mental images of Erik from Phantom of the Opera speaking in pig latin.

Of course, I didn't say ANY of this aloud. Looking around me, I saw the potion master picking herbs for his shop. If he saw them, he sure wasn't acting like it. Goody. I was seeing hallucinations when an old crazy man like the potion master wasn't. Great, just great.

Nik, as he had claimed his name to be, looked like he came straight out of Santa's workshop. He had pasty white skin, a bright red suit and hat. If I were less mature (Cough Popuri cough) I would have pinched his cheeks and marveled of how cute he was. At the time, however, I was too busy trying to convince myself that I hadn't just met one of Santa's Oompa Loompas in the local cave.

"Um…what do you know about these mountains?" You have no idea how relieved I was to find that the Potion's Master's seniority had temporarily disenabled his hearing. The fact that he couldn't hear I was talking to a hallucination was comforting.

"Lots of pretty owers-flay. Ary-scay bird, though. Eats unny-bays and mouses." Apparently, I was talking to a hallucination with an IQ of 50. Wonderful. Big scary bird, ha, now why would he be scared of…

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Outside of the cave's entrance, I heard a certain tomboy start an argument. Naturally, I felt inclined to abandon my imaginary friend to see what the deal was about. Bad idea.

I saw which big scary bird Nik was afraid of. Later, when I thought back on the entire thing, I found the situation utterly confusing. It was a while later before I realized that the big drama was just about Cliff's hawk trying to snack on a rabbit Ann had found cute. At that time, however, I was too concerned with those sharp agitated hawk eyes glaring back at me.

"Cain has to eat something, Ann! It's a fact of life." Cliff, his hawk on his shoulder, seemed more or less as agitated at his giant tweety bird. Ann just held onto a white rabbit even tighter.

"No way! I'm not going to let that….that thing kill an innocent animal! What did the bunny do to deserve it?" Ann sniffed, not even aware of my presence. It was obvious that she was going to pull the best female trick in the book. Cry. It almost worked, too. As her tears leaked, Cliff struggled, but his loyalty to his bird successfully helped him keep a firm expression.

"If Cain doesn't eat, he dies. Does he deserve that?" Cliff stroked the hawk, scowling. He was stroking the large canary of doom. I hired a guy who hadn't a dime to his name, yet managed to keep a hawk for a pet. And I was seeing dwarves. That's it, I was officially crazy. Insane, even. Insane….

"_You're insane, Rachel! You've been given the opportunity of your dreams!" A man yells at a rebellious teenager beside him. It seems to the girl that he is struggling to conceal his anger…his disappointment. _

"_No, it's the opportunity of your dreams, Dad. Just give me one year to prove it to you." The girl looks strangely like her father did years ago. Like her grandfather._

"_To prove what?! That you're willing to ignore your mother's and my sacrifices?! Harvard is big money, even for us. Your scholarship is larger than mine ever was, and you're just throwing it all away! Why?_

"_To prove that I'm responsible."_

"_Responsible? Do you think it's responsible to just throw away your education like this? To throw away your life? Be logical!" As her father speaks, a single tear slides down the girl's face. In a quiet tone the father recognized as his wife's, the girl murmured,_

"_Sometimes dreams just aren't logical, Dad." _

"I don't care what you say, Cliff. I'm not going to let the poor rabbit die!" Ann, frustrated, stomped off, leaving Cliff in the dust. He rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath about what a brat Ann was, and then stroked Cain's head a few more times.

"Well, buddy, guess you'll just have to have my lunch, today." Cliff said, gently petting the bird a few more times. He walked off by himself, still not noticing my presence, leaving me to ponder the situation. Was it fair that rabbit had been set free? It certainly was admirable, after all, who would want to see a cute button nosed bunny torn to bits? But it made more sense that Cain deserved the rabbit, for he had rightfully caught the hare. It was more logical.

But you see, that's what I like about life. It isn't always logical. Sometimes its just chaotic and insane, kind of like me. It is and was confusing, crazy, but most of all thoroughly entertaining. Life was insane. You gotta love it.

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**Author's Note: Once again, I'd like to say that Rachel's little philosophies on life are not completely my own. I'm trying to add character development, peoples, don't take it personally. I honestly doubt Harvest Moon is going to help you find one of the many answers of life. Only the Bible can do that. **

**To my friends who have never played Harvest Moon: The dwarves are NOT my crazy invention. They were in the game. They actually did speak pig latin. Only difference was that I had fun poking at their similarities to Oompa Loompas. **


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